I had just started secondary school in the autumn and I had a very specific birthday wishlist:
- army surplus jacket
- black nail polish
- silver rings
- Iron Maiden cassettes
- Iron Maiden tshirt and...
- a pair of Doc Marten boots...
On presenting the list to my mum, I fully expected her to throw it back at me in disgust, I had my big speech all ready - ready to rebel! But, to my slightly confused elation, she simply said:
"A good sensible pair of boots for the winter. No problem."
On discovering the army jacket was a mere £18 - AND it came with a hood - we snapped this up in a local army surplus store - my dream of becoming LT's girlfriend was within the realms of possibility. Tick one.
The following Saturday me and mum were going to take the train out of the dreary seaside town on the west coast and venture into the big city. As I leapt off the train in Glasgow Central in my 'little girl' clothes, I knew it would be for the last time, as I'd be returning a bona fide 'teenage rock chick'.
First stop - 'Pie In The Sky' - a mecca stuffed full of tie-dye, cheesecloth, jaw sticks, band t-shirts and... black nail polish. Tick, two, three, four and five.
Last on the list, the hunt for a pair of Doc Marten boots. After trying a few run of the mill shops, my dream was beginning to fade... Was I actually going to have to return home in my shoes??
And there they were - in all their glory - in the window of "Schuh" (pronounced at the time as Sk - uh!). I tried on a size 5 and a 6 - opting for the 6 so that I could wear big chunky socks over my tights.
"Can I keep them on??"
"Why not - they'll keep you dry in this rain"
I stepped out onto Argyle Street a new person. I was delighted with my life!
And so began my love/hate relationship with Doc Martens. Every step to Central Station felt as though someone was taking a hot-knife to the back of my ankles. By the time I got home, I had two gaping holes in my tights, two gaping holes in my heels and a grin like the cheshire cat across my face.
Breaking in a pair of Docs is a bitch, but with a pair of boots laced tight on my feet I feel like the baddest, bestest bitch in town!
Needless to say, I never became LT's girlfriend, but I'd found a much better replacement and one that'd stick with me the rest of my life - my love affair with boots.
This post was inspired by reading two amazing blog posts by Fashion Pearls of Wisdom and Devilishly Pleasurable all about shoes they have owned and loved in the past and how their taste in shoes has changed over the years. I plan to write a wee diary entry from time to time about all my favourite boots.
This is a video of my favourite drummer of all time, Robin Guy, doing a drum solo. I've wanted to post this for ages, but not sure anyone would be interested, so I'm going to shoehorn it in here with the tenuous link that Robin has been drumming for Bruce Dickinson for the past 10 years! Enjoy. It makes me squeal with excitement each and every time I watch it :)
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